My Last Night With Dad

Stuart K. Hayashi

The photo above is of my last interaction with Dad before the intense coughing and wheezing that caused his final trip to the hospital. On Monday, June 13, 2022, the 6:00 p.m. news reported on the strawberry moon — the moon being especially large and bright — and that it would be most prominent on Tuesday, June 14, at 2 a.m. Dad said, “Remember that.” I thought, “Uh-oh.” I knew that, like last year, he would want me to take him out of the house so that he could see it. There was always a danger in transferring Dad from his indoor wheelchair to his outdoor one and use our makeshift ramp to wheel him out the front door.

Around 11 p.m., I went out and saw that the strawberry moon was already in full effect. I asked Dad if he wanted to wait until 2 a.m. for me to take him out of the house. He replied no, he would be satisfied with my taking him out the door as soon as I could. I did, and was worried the whole time about the risk of his falling — the great fear of my mother, who was Dad's caregiver until her death on January 12, 2021. Taking Dad out to see a celestial event was the only action I performed for Dad that my mother would not.

I had an ominous feeling and worried this might be the final experience Dad and I shared together. It was then that I snapped the photo above.

Then I took Dad in. He said he wished he asked me for his distance glasses instead, “but that’s OK.” He said, “Thank you, Stuart.” I soon put Dad in his bed and he started coughing sporadically.

At 1:30 a.m., Dad’s coughing became constant. He had to go to the hospital. He had developed pneumonia from food having repeatedly going down his breathing passage and affecting his lungs. He aspirated and had a stroke.

Thereafter, Dad stayed in the hospital overnight all week. He died on Saturday, June 18, near 11:47 a.m. My older sister, my father’s older sister, and I were in the hospital room, 526, as it happened. My aunt and I clenched hands tightly.

I miss my parents dearly. I always will.

Lamont the Lonely Monster and His Mysterious Likeness on a Beach Towel

Stuart K. Hayashi

There is much that I have been contemplating with the recent death of my father. Both my parents have died within the past year and a half. My mind goes to my childhood. Then it goes to a mystery that has vexed me since that time. I suspect I already know the answer, and it is not one that pleases me. 

I have fond memories of my mother reading to me Lamont, The Lonely Monster. It was published by the Hallmark Company in the 1970s, now most well-known for its greeting cards. This pop-up book was originally my older sister's, and it was handed down to me. It's the story of a monster who has no friends and ventures to an old haunted mansion hoping to meet at least one monster there who will be his friend. There is a danger, however, as he has heard that in this mansion lurks a creature called Uriah the Heap, whom even other monsters fear as violent. Can Lamont avoid this Uriah and also find another monster to be his companion?

This book had a profound effect on me. You have noticed my interest in monsters, especially ones like Lamont who have a dinosaur-like appearance. And my stories often have a theme of what it is like not to be considered a proper member of society. Monsters such as Lamont are a perfect symbol of that separateness.  

I reflect upon not just this book but yet another item from my childhood. It is a beach towel that my mother often used.

 It is of a giant monster who has swallowed the globe, which is apparently visible through his stomach. He says worriedly, "I can't believe I ate the whole thing." As you can see, this creature bears more than a slight resemblance to Lamont from our book. Not just the ears, snout, and dorsal spikes are the same -- even the two fangs jutting from the lower jaw are. Very oddly, my mother didn't notice the resemblance until I pointed it out to her. Even then, she didn't give it much thought; she was occupied with other life matters. 

The image on the towel is likely modeled after this illustration from the book's cover pages.

The towel was produced by a company called Terry Treasure of California.

Upon running a Google search for this company, I was surprised to find that there is a small online community of people who collect vintage towels this company has produced.

On the lower left hand corner of the "globe" on the towel, there is some writing. But it is too faded for me to read.  The best I can make it, it seems to say, “Lon Draville © B + D” or “Don Draville © B + D.”

The illustrator for Lamont, The Lonely Monster is Don Page, who has apparently drawn for other children's books as well. As of this writing, I cannot find information about whether Mr. Page was paid for designs on beach towels. I love this beach towel dearly. It has great sentimental value. Sadly, my worry is that the design was copied from Don Page's work without his permission.